


Risk

by Lizlow



Category: 7'Scarlet (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizlow/pseuds/Lizlow
Summary: In her wide, innocent eyes, he sees all her vulnerability. He can't help but make a promise, a promise that could be said to be one that can lead to the end of an era. A era thatneededto come to a close.Those eyes, her pure light, entwined the fates of her self and six others. Even if he face does not come to be shown, he is just as tied to them as they are to he. That's the risk, one that is only partially calculated. The variables here are, of course, merely human.
Relationships: Hanamaki Ichiko & Yatsukami Hanate
Kudos: 2





	Risk

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this was a salvage from a scrapped piece (the beginning/first section specifically!) - it's nice to have finally made use of it! I haven't really written 7'sCarlet in a while, so the canon details are a bit foggy - this is pre-main story though! 7s was a really fun time, and I enjoyed my play of it when I did play it!

“You’ll play with me again, right?”

“...How many times must I remind you that it’s dangerous to be alone. You oughtn’t trust strangers so easily,” he scolds, lightly. It’s serious, but he can’t bring himself to be _too harsh_ \- to scare her more than she might already be. Everything around her, the gravity of her presence, it’s already enough. 

The little girl, Ichiko, is quick to bounce back, “But _you_ aren’t a stranger!” She says as sternly as she can manage, “You’re a really nice guy and... and..! We’re friends now!” 

Hanate has no choice, hearing that, to concede to that idea, since he thinks - _knows_ \- she really won’t back down. Her faith in him, it’s an arrow through his chest. If he betrays that, then... “I _suppose_ , but you still have to be careful.” 

“Would others really try to eat me up?”

 _Ah_ , children with innocent confusion. However, with her recent experiences, perhaps the phrasing really isn’t wrong. There’s danger all around. The _Revenants_ , that boy - Kagura - the world is never a safe place; the odds are really stacked against her. “Mmhmm,” Hanate answers her, “That’s why you have to promise to watch out.” 

“Okay..! But you have to promise to play with me again, and I’ll make sure I’m _extra_ careful!” 

She’s an unfortunate magnet to the eyes of desperate, lost souls, a beacon of _hope_ for release from the ever-screaming pain of a stagnant, dark “life.” She is a soul too trusting to be barred by fear, but maybe, maybe that’s what makes him want to guard her, to care for her survival, to interfere with the course of the curse he’s flowed with for so long. 

It’s a risk. This all is. 

It’s unfair to her, to be seen as just _food_. It’s unfair to her, so young, so hopeful, to risk being snatched away from all that. The little _ambrosia_ must prosper, must live a normal life. Those are the thoughts that begin to echo through his head. 

“Yes, yes.” 

“Say it! C’mon! Please?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

“Hooray! Should we pinky promise this too? Just to be sure?” She asks, tilting her head. He nods and kneels down, sticking his pinky out, and letting her wrap her own tiny one around it. As soon as it’s completed, she continues talking, before he even can stand back up, “Mmm... then tomorrow, I’ll go back and see him if I can... then I think _he’ll_ be making tarts again...” 

She happily rattles off her future plans, satisfied, as if she’s not being stalked by those pursuing the red shine of her eyes. How nice it would be if summers could stay as sweet and simple here, in this old-fashioned town, as they probably are elsewhere. She’s had a rough time here, surely, but she still does her best to find fun in it. Even if there’s a series of vultures circling, watching this weak little bloom for an exposed stem, waiting to be able to pluck her from her flimsy grasp on the ground below. 

Did he know then, that mere days would change the course of how their lives would spin? Did he know then that he would find excitement in _existing_ for just a moment, with her around? There’s no way to predict it, not when he hadn’t even expected getting so attached. 

All he can do, all he can do, for now, is watch over her, until the head is reached, until his measures shift gears and it becomes too much to chance. 

“Good morning, sleepy!” 

“Huh... wah?!” 

“Hehe!” 

From the moment she leans over her friend and wakes him from a nap, laughing before reminding him of the danger, to the times she’s holding a marble and staring up at the sky, letting the sun shine into it so she can see the colors reach their hands out, he can’t help but think that she’d walk herself right back into the clutches of those who mean to do harm. 

Where there is ‘good,’ there is evil to follow it. Every light casts a shadow; every shot at the sun chances a darkness to reflect on the moon. And she is pure, bright, so the reborn misfortunate are drawn to her, the prey. 

The hand of a middle schooler, the carrying - and gift - of a young hiker, the first audience to a future star, the sweets of a promising baker, the excitement of a forever friend, and himself. WIth this girl at the center, with the scarlet flowers popping up in the distance, _seven_ fates are entwined. Seven lives might cross again. And when they do, _when they do_ , the town might not be the same at the conclusion of it. 

How many tears will be shed? How will their hearts change? 

Hanate is shackled to the town of his origins, with these bones that should have very well turned to dust in the winds years before. Will the one flower she holds in her hands help him stay beside her just a little bit longer? Her safety... means “the world” to him, to the one who’s lived so numbly for so long. 

Without risk, there might be no reward - but evading this is a present in itself. 

The peak, the highest point where he must act, must go outside what even he thought he would. To become... to be a family member, the time has come. It’s a drastic act, but he’s excited - to start anew. She kicks her feet, and when there’s a point where they stop and she places her little hand on his arm, and smiles. 

“Yeah, we’re going home.” 

\---

“I’m home! And Hino’s with me!” 

“Pardon the intrusion! I’m coming in!”

Slowly, Ichiko grows up, and even still does danger revolve around her. It orbits, ready to crash into her like a meteor as soon as it loosens from the opposing magnet pull. So long as she doesn’t return to _that town_ , things should be sparse, he thinks. It should be a low charge. 

For now, at _home_ , it’s avoidable. 

“Is he staying over late again?” Hanate asks, looking over toward the pair as they enter the house. 

“Ah, _ah_? I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome!” Hino says, very quickly, “I’m just here to do homework...” 

“Hino’s been so busy with futsal,” Ichiko’s says, laughing, “and then, when I was talking to him, he spaced out while he was writing something, soooo much that-” 

“That... _that_ nothing!”

“-that he drew _all_ over his notes!” 

Hino looks dejected, briefly - or, is it embarrassment? - before he does what he can to get his footing back. After all, he sees the way she’s laughing, and he can’t manage to stay mad about the fact that she revealed this little ‘secret’ of his. This life is the simple life that she deserves to head. Even if Hino might not yet be strong enough to... protect her, really, at least he’s good at keeping her company. “I-Ichiko, I just...” 

“Were you that sleepy?”

“No, I-” 

“They were scribbles though... they did kinda vaguely resemble a snake; it was cute!”

“I’ve just been thinking about that rare sight lately! I don’t really get why though.” 

It appears that there could have been more than just that, but a lot of it dissipates as Hino jumps back at the chance to point out how spacey she was in class following that break-time incident, so much so that he even poked her on the forehead after. They spend idle time teasing each, giggling fully all the while before Hanate finally manages to motion them over to the couch so that they could, _hopefully_ , focus on the homework they planned on doing. 

“Hino, I’m really glad I have your help.” 

“Yeah. me too, Ichiko.” 

Childhood friends, they share a sort of familiarity that is not quite so wide-spread in this world. In it, they make a promise, a promise to stick to each other. Hanate made Hino promise that too. He doesn’t know how long things can last like this. Even if it’s been fun, even if it’s for the best. 

_That_ place still remains. 

The hours pass and when Hanate checks on them again, after hearing the laughter and brain-wracking fade out, he sees them, fast asleep. All the exercise and joy from earlier must have taken a toll on them. He looks at their worksheets and he decides that, should they ask it, he’ll help them go over them, just in case. They are complete, but if they have any questions, he should try to work them through them, right? Isn’t that what a big brother should do? 

A reliable sibling, that’s the image. 

Is Ichiko drooling on Hino’s shoulder? _Haha_ , yes she is. Their pencils are just inches away from their hands; they must have rolled out once their grip loosened. They trust each other; there’s no threat with him. 

Is it a risk, a risk to consider leaving without saying a thing? Surely, their memories of him will fade in due time, once he does depart. For now, he’ll let them stay there, as he calls Hino’s family to inform them of the situation. 

This is what _home_ looks like. This is how it should remain. 

\---

Where, where will their paths lead them? How will the risks be combated? What do the winds whisper? The flower she keeps shakes, and she feels a chill. Where did something so precious come from? Something pings, pings with worry, so retrieves the marble from her pocket, and holds it in her first, feeling it cool the center of the palm of her hand. A song, a song she doesn’t recall hearing plays in the back of her mind, the warmth of a hand she doesn’t recognize dusts her fingers, and tells her things will be fine. 

She coughs and the taste of a sweet she’s never eaten fills her mouth. It shifts to strawberries - dreaded and detested, and she downs a glass of water to wash it away. 

“I’m back!”

“Oh, w-welcome home!” 

Hanate gives a smile at this sort of homely exchange. It’s warm, touching his ‘heart’. He might even say he feels... _alive_. Just for now, just until this gamble comes to an end, until the cries come louder and the voices go silent. They’re on the cusp of the beginning of summer, after all. 

His joy fades once he notices her stance falter. What is pulling on her head? What is making her dizzy? What... else, save for memories that are locked away? What else, except for pain tied tight by a false livelihood? 

_No_ , the situation is untruthful, but the emotions are real, so very real. He got involved in her life; he came to care for her. That is _truthful._ A little ball of truth floating in the depths. He hurries to steady her, and she laughs it off. 

“Haha, I’m fine. Just felt a little weird.” She whirls around and grabs another glass of water. “It was pretty hot today, so maybe I’m just a little dehydrated.” 

He sighs, “Take care of yourself.” 

“I know, I know!” 

But he saw the fogginess in her eyes, the strain that creased her forehead. It has come to pass, and it will once again. She’s had trouble with her ‘memory’ before. Where the scarlet flower blooms amidst a sea of purple, where beliefs are severed and repaired with safety, where pain is locked away for joy. It’s easy to say she’s the forgetful type, and leave it at that. 

So at that, it will stay. That’s how it _really_ is, isn’t it? To play with fire, to the wispy scene, sweet, that tickles his nose, to the town that lays tucked away in the mountains. What dangers will come into play in a snap? The chance, the chance of figuring out the future... is difficult. 

Unpredictable. 

“Thank you for being here,” she says, holding up the marble she keeps with her, letting the sunlight reflect inside it, telling her a story she doesn’t know; it draws her closer, as though she is swimming, navigating the drifts she’s been sent to. 

“No, thank you.” 

For now, she’s alive; for time being -- for a whole natural lifetime, is the hope. The thorns cannot bind her, not yet.


End file.
